


The Giving Tree

by miyani



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abuse, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Comfort Sex, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hook-Up, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Non-Consensual Touching, Not Canon Compliant, Oikawa Tooru is a Mess, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Verbal Abuse, Violent Thoughts, no redemption for kuroo tetsurou
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miyani/pseuds/miyani
Summary: Oikawa has been in this relationship since his first year in college. He's now a well-established volleyball player, having played professionally since he graduated.The perks? Nobody questions where your bruises came from.The downsides? Nobody questions where your bruises came from.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 180





	1. Kakorrhaphiophobia

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello it's miyani !!  
> uhhh fair warning this is gonna get dark as you can tell  
> also this fic will have slow updates, as i'm focusing more on devils don't fly at the moment :0  
> i just started this one up as a way to avoid writer's block :3  
> um,, other than that, i don't really have any warnings bc. that's what the tags are for :3  
> enjoy !!
> 
> p.s. i swear one of these days i'll write something fluffy but that day is not today :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ❝ so wake me up when it's all over ❞
> 
> × wake me up (avicii) ×

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kakorrhaphiophobia : the fear of failing.

Oikawa was no stranger to domestic violence. When you’ve dated an abuser for so many years, you typically know what to expect every time you come home. Oikawa has been in this relationship since his first year in college. He’s now a well-established volleyball player, having played professionally since he graduated. 

The perks? Nobody questions where your bruises came from.

The downsides? Nobody questions where your bruises came from. 

He steps off the bus, patting himself down with his towel. He’s just finished a game, and now he’s heading home. He sighs quietly, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. Right. Kuroo. He said he would text him as soon as the game was over. He got distracted talking with his teammates earlier, but maybe he could call him on his walk home. He takes out his phone, dialing up Kuroo’s number. He waits for an answer, smiling when he hears a quiet  _ click. _

“Hey, babe. Sorry I didn’t-”

“Where are you?” Oikawa knows that tone. It’s not a good one. It’s harsh; demanding. He tenses, swallowing his pride. “I’m sorry. I got caught up with my teammates. I’m on my way home right now, I’ll be there soon.” He can practically hear the annoyance building up on his boyfriend’s face. “I swear I’m almost home, Tetsurou-san. It’s just a five minute walk.” 

“I’m coming to pick you up. Stay where you are.”

“You really don’t need to do that.” The phone call cuts out before Oikawa can even finish his sentence. He sits down on the sidewalk next to some random street sign, sighing as he waits quietly. It’s dark, it’s cold, and all he’s wearing are his volleyball clothes and his team jacket, which is unfortunately rather thin and definitely not meant to withstand the cold. Of course, as always, it takes Kuroo longer to pick him up than it would’ve been if he had just walked home. He doesn’t complain, though; he never does. Complaints only bring harm. Instead, Oikawa simply thanks him, giving him a weak smile as he buckles himself in. He misses living in Miyagi, if he’s being honest. Tokyo is much too crowded and busy for him. Not to mention, he’s now living five hours away from Iwaizumi. Going to different universities was difficult enough, but now he never even got to see him anymore. 

Sure, he could simply make the drive there whenever he had the time. If only he had access to the car. If he had access to the finances. If he had access to free will. Everything would be a lot easier if he had that. Dare he say it, maybe things would be better if he had gone to Shiratorizawa. Despite his cold attitude towards him, Oikawa did have a rather soft spot for the volleyball captain. Ushijima didn’t need to know that, though. Which was part of why he refused to even breathe in the school’s direction. Another reason is that he didn’t want to abandon his dear Iwa-chan. Lot of good that did him, though.

He steps out of the car when he realizes they’ve arrived at home, tilting his head up as Kuroo zips his jacket for him. “Cover yourself up, for fuck sake. It’s almost like you  _ want _ to attract other men.” That logic never made sense to Oikawa. If he wanted to attract another guy’s attention, he wouldn’t be wearing his sweat-soaked volleyball jersey. If he  _ wanted _ to attract another guy’s attention, it wouldn’t just be any random guy either.  _ You want him, don’t you? You want to feel his hands all over your body instead of Tetsurou. Is that it?  _ He shakes himself out of his thoughts, ignoring the rather lustful questions he’d asked himself. He was happy with Kuroo. Anyone could see that. They’ve been together for years now. Why would he stay if he was unhappy?

_ You owe him. He took you when no one else would. Nobody else would have sex with you anyways; your knee is always such a nuisance to take care of. Nobody wants to have to worry about messing it up while they’re fucking you. _

He blinks, looking off to the side. It was true; nobody wanted to have to take care of him afterwards. They only wanted to ruin that pretty little face of his. He takes his jacket off, changing into his pajamas before curling up under the blankets. It isn’t long before he feels a hand on his ass. “Hey.. Can we do this tomorrow? I’m exhausted.” He doesn’t get a response; only a short grunt is heard from the other male as he slips his hand under the waistband of Oikawa’s boxers. He shudders, grabbing Kuroo’s hand and attempting to pull away. “Tetsurou-san..”

His breathing hitches as his body tenses, feeling Kuroo’s teeth graze against his neck. “You owe me for making me go out and get you.” That didn’t make sense to Oikawa. He never asked Kuroo to pick him up. In fact, he asked him  _ not to _ . He digs his nails into his palms, just barely resisting when Kuroo attempts to roll him onto his stomach.  _ Give in. Let it happen. We both know it nevers helps to struggle. _ “Put your cheek on the pillow and your hands by your head. Close your eyes.” He does as he’s instructed, squeezing his eyes shut and grabbing the pillow on either side of his head.  _ Maybe I can pretend it’s him. _

And that’s exactly what he does. He pretends it’s Ushijima positioning him on his knees with his ass out. He pretends it’s Ushijima tugging his boxers down to his knees. He pretends it’s Ushijima putting his hand on his hips, stretching him out with two fingers, then three, then four. He pretends it’s Ushijima pounding him into the mattress. As badly as he wants to cry out for him, he swallows his name down and mutters out a weak “Tetsurou-san” as he feels himself tighten around him. His pulse quickens and his breathing hinders as he feels his so-called “lover” brush against his prostate. 

“Ha.. there.. I love it when you hit me right there.” He feels like a fucking dog, panting like this; tongue out, saliva dripping onto the pillow, begging for the scraps of affection Kuroo just barely agrees to give him. It’s humiliating. He flinches when Kuroo grabs his hair, pulling it to get him to arch his back. He does so, releasing a rather high-pitched and drawn-out whine. He goes rigid as Kuroo nibbles on his earlobe, biting his lip as the other moans into his ear. He despises it, being so close to him. It only reminds him of the horrible situation he’s found himself in. Come to think of it, he never explicitly gave Kuroo his consent, did he? Wasn’t that the first thing they’d learned about in sex ed?  _ Consent is the presence of a yes, not the absence of a no.  _

He’s ripped from his thoughts when he feels Kuroo tug at his hair, whining yet again. “Answer me when I’m talking to you, you fucking whore.” Oikawa begins to tremble slightly, keeping his eyes shut. “Sorry.. Sorry, I’m sorry.” He steadies his breathing, resisting the urge to open his eyes when he feels Kuroo press against his back. “You’re not getting distracted, are you? I’m the only thing on your mind. Is that right?” 

“Yes, Tetsurou-san.” Yet another tug. “I wanna hear that dirty little mouth of yours admit it.” Oikawa tenses, still trembling slightly. “I’m.. only thinking of you. You’re the only thing on my mind, Tetsurou-san.” 

“Now say it like you mean it.” 

“What?”

“Say it. Like. You mean it.” How is he supposed to do that? He’s already said it, what else is he supposed to do? Another tug. “You want me to beat you again? Is that what you want? Do you get satisfaction knowing you’re the only one that knows where you get those beautiful love marks from?”  _ Love marks.  _ They weren’t love marks. They weren’t beautiful. They were disgusting, ugly bruises. They made Oikawa feel inferior; ugly. He had so much; he had just about everything he wanted. Everything except genuine human connection. He was a plaything. He was a toy for Kuroo to play with; a toy for Kuroo to abuse, only to throw him away when he was tired of seeing Oikawa’s supposedly pretty face. 

“No, Tetsurou-san..”

“Then say it.”

“You’re the only thing on my mind, Tetsurou-san.”

“Like you mean it. Or else I’m gonna take that fucking knee of yours and ruin it even more.”

“I love you so much, Tetsurou-san. You’re the only thing I ever think about, the only thing I ever  _ want _ to think about. Sometimes I think about you when I’m alone and I touch myself. I get off on the very  _ idea _ of you, Tetsurou-san. I want you to fuck me until I lose my voice, I want the neighbors to hear me at the end of the street. Please, Tetsurou-san.” He feels pathetic. He hasn’t begged like this since high school. 

“Mm. Since you asked so nicely, I’ll do you a favor. I’ll fuck you ‘til you can only remember my name. That way you’ll always know you’re mine. How’s that sound, lovebug?”  _ Lovebug. You hate that name. It makes you sick. He’s only ever nice to you when you’re compliant. That makes you sick too, doesn’t it?  _ Oikawa nods, tightening his grip on the pillow as he feels Kuroo’s pace hasten. He’s desperate to get this over with; he hates having to fake his affection for someone who doesn’t want nor deserve it.

_ There! _

_ Right there! _

_ Ah-! _

_ Yes! There! Right there!  _

_ Fuck, you feel so good, Ushijima! _

Fuck. He can’t go five minutes without thinking of stupid Ushijima, can he? He flinches when he feels a hand latch around his throat. “Fuck, you make me feel so good, Tooru.”  _ Really? Because you make me feel disgusting.  _ “Mm.. You wanna cum?” Oikawa nods, letting out a quiet moan as Kuroo bites his shoulder. “Alright, lovebug. I’ll let you cum in just a minute.” Kuroo pulls out, rolling Oikawa onto his back and pulling him up to sit on his knees. “Hands here, eyes closed, and keep your teeth  _ away _ this time.” 

He nods, letting Kuroo push his head down. He feels something press against his lips, instinctively opening his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.  _ Of course you’re making me give you head. Never mind the fact that I hate the taste of you.  _ He bobs his head up and down, dragging his tongue along Kuroo’s shaft as he does so. It doesn’t take much longer for Kuroo to cum, forcing Oikawa to swallow. He mentally gags at the taste of it; he’ll definitely be throwing that up later. He always does.

Oikawa pants as Kuroo pulls him off his dick, wiping the spit from his mouth. He stretches out in front of Oikawa, getting out of bed and changing into his own pajamas. “What about me..?” He feels used. He should’ve expected Kuroo to get himself off and then ignore him. All he gets in response is a quiet groan as Kuroo climbs back into bed and under the blankets, facing away from him. Oikawa sits there; half naked, head aching, semen lightly coating his lips. He pulls his boxers back on, regretfully crawling under the covers as well. 

He feels pathetic for even thinking Kuroo would let him get off. He turns his back to Kuroo, staring into the dark as he tries to convince himself to fall asleep. Instead, he lays awake for what feels like hours. He rolls over onto his back, grabbing his phone off the nightstand and checking the time.  _ 2:45 AM.  _ Kuroo was definitely asleep by now; he was such a simple man, falling asleep right after sex like that. Although, Oikawa’s restlessness was perhaps due to the fact that he was never allowed to spend his pent up energy on an orgasm. 

He moves the blankets away, getting out of bed and quietly searching his drawers for clothes. He’s gotten used to searching through his shared pitch-black room. He gets changed, grabbing his phone before he leaves. He heads downstairs, looking through the kitchen cabinets. He lights up when he finds a small plastic bag, taking it out of the cabinet and counting the money inside.  _ Exactly 10,000 yen. _ He’d been saving up for bus passes without Kuroo’s knowledge. This would get him three days worth of unlimited bus rides for the highway. Meaning he’d get three days to go back to Miyagi. 

He stuffs the bag in his pocket, taking a moment to look at what he’s wearing.  _ One of his “aliens are real” shirts, ripped denim shorts, and taco socks.  _ “Oikawa Tooru, you are an absolute mess.” He shakes his head, stepping out the door and closing it behind him as quietly as possible. He pulls out his phone, marching his way towards the bus stop. “Do you know what fucking time-”

“Iwa-chan, I need to see you.” He ignores his teeth chattering, continuing to make his way to the bus stop. “Oikawa, it’s-”

_ “Please.”  _ He hadn’t meant to start begging.  _ Guess he’s trained me to respond with begging. _ He hears an exhausted sigh on the other end of the line. “Fucking.. whatever. Where do you wanna meet up?”

“Can I come to your place? I just need to be somewhere familiar right now.” 

“Sure. I’ll see you in the morning, then. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to sleep, dumbass.” For whatever reason, it was comforting to hear Iwaizumi insult him. He felt like he was back in high school, going next door to Iwa-chan’s house after having a nightmare. His thoughts run wild as he waits for the bus; maybe he should’ve thought this through a bit more. He’s convinced he’s dying of hypothermia by the time the bus arrives. He climbs on, scanning his pass and heading to the back. He sits, quickly passing out as the bus begins to move.

He forgets where he is when he wakes up, and it takes him a moment to realize the bus driver is asking him to get off. He gets up, sleepily making his way off the bus. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, checking his phone for the time.  _ 7:25 AM. _ He tilts his head to either side, cracking his neck as he begins to walk. He glances around as he makes his way to Iwaizumi’s house; not much has changed, in all honesty. It was comforting to him, knowing things were the same as he’d left them.

He stops in front of a familiar house, smiling to himself as he studies it. He fishes his phone from his pocket, calling Iwaizumi. He gives an audible sigh of relief when the other picks up, letting his shoulders relax. “Hey. I’m outside.” He hears a rather loud groan on the other end; Iwaizumi has definitely just woken up. He laughs to himself, walking up to the door. “I’ll let myself in. You can go ahead and get dressed, Iwa-chan.” He hangs up, placing his phone back in his pocket as he carefully bends down to grab the spare key from under the mat. He unlocks the door, placing the key in his pocket and stepping inside. He looks around, smiling at the decor.  _ He still has that dumb Godzilla statue I got him for his birthday.  _ He turns his head towards the sound of creaking stairs, smiling up at his friend. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.” 

“Shut up.. What are you doing here, anyways?” Oikawa reels back with a fake offense. “Iwa-chan! How rude. Can’t I just come to visit my bestest friend ever?” 

“Spit it out, dumbass. I could hear the distress in your voice, I’m not stupid.” Oikawa looks down at the floor, fiddling with his thumbs as he tries to think of a way to phrase the situation properly. “Come on.. Don’t tell me it’s your shitty boyfriend.” He remains silent, avoiding eye contact. “God damn it, Oikawa.. You told me you ditched his ass.”

“I did.. not. I didn’t. I lied about that.”

“Christ, Oikawa.. You know you don’t deserve to be treated like some pathetic moron. So why do you keep letting him step all over you like this?” 

“It’s not.. It’s not that simple, Iwa-chan.” His voice cracks as tears begin to well up in his eyes. He certainly felt pathetic, now. “He’s all I have now.. Nobody else would want someone as worthless as me anyways.” He flinches when Iwaizumi puts his hands on his shoulders. “Oikawa. You are not worthless. As much as I insult you, you’re valuable to me. You’re my friend. I want you to be happy.”

“But I-”

“No. You and I are going to take a walk around Miyagi. That’s final.” He sighs quietly, letting Iwaizumi drag him out of the house. He’s not going to complain. He’s fine with this. He stumbles around behind Iwaizumi, looking around at his previous home. A familiar color catches his eye, and he carefully tugs away from Iwaizumi to investigate. He gets closer, freezing when the recognition hits.

“Ah. Oikawa. Odd seeing you here.” His whole body goes rigid as he stares up at the man in front of him. “Ushijima.. Gross.” Why is he still keeping up that stupid act? Why isn’t he just taking the chance away from Kuroo to pounce on the man he actually wants to be involved with? “What are you doing here, anyways? I thought you lived in Tokyo now.” He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, you know. Just having a reunion.” Iwa-chan and I actually-”

“Why don’t you go hang out with Ushijima? Maybe you’ll get along now that you’ve graduated.” 

He can’t believe the words that just came out of Iwazumi’s mouth. He refuses to. “Perhaps we should spend some time together. We could catch up over some breakfast, if you’d like.” He can feel his face turn red as he simply stares at Ushijima. “Yeah.. That’d be  _ great. _ ” 

“Perfect. Here, I’ll take you to one of my favorite restaurants. I can take it from here, Iwaizumi.”

What the hell is going on? It’s as though they planned for this to happen. Regardless, he follows Ushijima to a small cafe, sitting down at a table with him. “So, what’s been going on with-”

“Can I ask you something?”   
  
“Of course.”

“Say you’ve been in a relationship for a while. And to everyone else, everything seems fine. But you know that your significant other is a terrible person. And they constantly tell you you’re worthless and that nobody else will want you and insult you. What.. would you do about that?” The both of them remain silent as Ushijima tilts his head, raising a brow at Oikawa’s “hypothetical” question. “Oikawa..” He places a hand on the table in front of him, gently brushing his fingers against Oikawa’s hand. “Are you being abused?”

“Abused..? Of course not, it was just a hypothetical question. I’m-”

“You can tell me, Oikawa. I’m here to help you.” He stares down at their hands, face flushing a light shade of pink. “It’s um.. It’s complicated. You don’t need to worry about me, though. I’ve got everything under control.”

“You’re covered in bruises, Oikawa.”

“I play volleyball. Of course I get a few bruises here and there.”

“You seem to have forgotten I play volleyball as well. Do I look nearly as bruised as you do?” He has a point. Ushijima’s skin is essentially flawless. There isn’t a single imperfection on this man’s body. “Some of us play harder than others.”

“Oikawa. Tell me the truth, please. I only want to help.”

“I.. You’ll have to promise you won’t tell anyone else.”

  
  
“I give you my word.”

“Alright.” He leans closer, sipping from his tea cup. “It.. started in my first year of college. I decided to start dating Kuroo-san. I thought it would be great, but.. He started getting possessive and demanding. He started forcing me into things I didn’t want to do, threatening to tell people that I was sleeping with one of my professors when I wasn’t. All kinds of things.. It got physical later. He uh.. I think you can assume what goes on. I can’t leave, though. He’d kill me if I tried.”   
  
Ushijima was quiet, blinking a couple times before sighing. “That is a lot to unpack.. It’s alright, though. If you’d like, I can give you my number so you can call me whenever you need.” 

“That’d be great, actually.” He watches Ushijima write his number down on a napkin, taking and folding it to fit in his pocket. “You should get back to Tokyo before Kuroo-san finds out. Remember, you can call me anytime you need. I’ll always answer.” And with that, the man of Oikawa’s dreams is gone. He stares at his hand, feeling it tingle slightly.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi, I think I’m in love with you.”


	2. Sonophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ❝ i can't act like a child and disobey ❞
> 
> × airplane mode (limbo) ×

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonophobia : fear of or aversion to loud noises.

Oikawa steps off the bus, looking down at his phone.  _ 12:37 PM.  _ Kuroo was definitely awake now, likely searching for Oikawa around the streets if not waiting for him to return home. He begins to walk down the sidewalk towards their shared living space, reluctantly swiping down on his phone screen to unlock it. He stares down at the conversation he’d been having with Ushijima, grimacing at the thought of his punishment. Being out without telling Kuroo. Hanging out with Iwaizumi. Getting another guy’s number. There were so many things he’d be punished for. He continues to walk, slowing his pace. It was almost serene outside, especially since he was rarely allowed to be out. 

He turns the corner, immediately feeling the looming presence ahead of him. It’s a straight bolt to their abode, one that gives Oikawa a nauseating sentiment that causes his stomach to churn with unease. He falters, contemplating whether or not he should hasten his walking speed. He hesitantly decides in favor of the former, taking bigger steps to get home faster. While he doesn’t exactly anticipate the fate waiting behind the front door, he decides it’s best to get it over and done with. He turns the handle, wincing slightly as the door creaks open. He steps into the house, shutting the door behind him quietly. “I’m home, Tetsurou-san..” His voice is nothing but a mere whisper, barely heard amongst the sea of near-deafening noise coming from the next room over. 

Oikawa covers his ears, sitting down on the doormat with his knees curled up to his chest. He hates loud noises; Kuroo is aware of that. Oikawa buries his face in his knees, keeping his ears covered. He hears the barely audible rhythmic tapping of Kuroo’s footsteps on the wood flooring, reluctantly uncovering his ears and looking up to make eye contact with him. “You wanna tell me where you were?” It’s not a question to Oikawa; it’s a demand. “I was eating lunch with one of my teammates. We went to Maruka.” He wraps himself in a hug, preparing to be reprimanded for such an obvious lie. “Oh, really? Then why does your phone say you were in Miyagi?” Of course his phone would be the thing to sell him out. He had completely forgotten about the gps Kuroo had installed on his phone a few months ago. 

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Tooru?” Oikawa shakes his head, shrinking back on himself as Kuroo gets closer. “Oh? Are you scared I’m gonna hurt you again? I just wanna talk, Tooru.” He jumps, watching Kuroo slam his fist into the wall. He buries his face again, beginning to tremble. He can feel the tears welling up in his eyes, squeezing them shut to let them fall into his lap. He desperately tries to keep quiet; Kuroo would punish him if he knew he was crying. His efforts are in vain, however, and he whines as Kuroo tugs on his hair. He’s forced to look up, forced to make eye contact. “You’re  _ crying? _ Are you a  _ child _ , Tooru?”

He tries to speak, tries to make his thoughts come out as coherent words. He’s unsuccessful, however, resulting in Kuroo tugging roughly at his hair. “Answer me. Are you a child, Tooru?” He shakes his head, feeling the tears stream down his cheeks. “No! I’m not a child!” His voice is shaky and breaking, and his throat burns; he feels as though he’s been yelling, feels as though the neighbors should be pounding on their front door to make sure he’s okay. He feels another harsh tug, followed by his head being shoved back into the door. The back of it hits the door with a rather loud  _ thunk, _ and his forehead meets his knees as he lets it fall forward. “You’re lucky I even agreed to date you. Nobody else would take in someone as disgusting and repulsive as you are. Look at you. Sitting on the floor crying, bruises all over. You’re absolutely dreadful. You may as well be out on the streets, looking like that; working in the sex industry wouldn’t be too bad of a job for you, if only you were prettier.” 

_ If only I were prettier.  _ He sits in silence, waiting for Kuroo to continue berating him. “Go clean yourself up. I’m sick of looking at you.” He doesn’t move, listening to Kuroo’s footsteps fade away instead. He sits there for a little while longer, eventually lifting his head and looking around. He’s alone now. He brings his hand to the back of his head, wincing when it makes contact. He turns to look at the door, sighing softly when he sees there's no dent. He stands slowly, making his way upstairs to the bedroom. He searches through his dressers for clean clothes, eventually settling for a plain white shirt and a pair of black shorts. 

He trudges back downstairs, moving down the hallway to the bathroom. He locks the door behind him, sitting down next to the bathtub as he exhales quietly. He turns on the water, turning back around to check the time.  _ 1:05 PM.  _ He lets his head rest on his palm, swiping down to unlock his phone. He freezes, reading over his recent conversation. He sighs, typing out a new message. 

> **From: You**
> 
> _~~Hey, Ushijima. I’m about to get in t~~ Just wanted to let you know I got home safely. ~~Text me back when you see this I’ll be in Miyagi again tomorrow if you want to meet up somewhere.~~ _

Oikawa puts his phone down, turning off the faucet and stripping down to his bare skin. He stands in front of the mirror, checking himself out. He stares at himself, eyes dull. The days when he could look at himself with confidence seem like they were centuries ago. Now, all he can see is a pathetic, disgusting being; a stick-thin, beaten, broken, and ugly being. He’s no longer human in his eyes; he looks more like a discarded barbie doll.  _ If only you were prettier.  _ He turns away from the mirror, stepping into the bath and letting himself sink into it. He tenses, whining quietly as the hot water soaks into his hair and burns his scalp slightly. He brings his head out of the water, running a hand through his hair. He sits there for a few moments, twisting his fingers into his hair as he stares into the water. He detangles his hair, wincing as he tugs at the knots. He hasn’t had a chance to comb through it in a while; not that it would help if he did. Kuroo would only get it tangled again. 

He takes the rest of his bath rather quickly, stepping out and wrapping himself up in a towel as the water drains. He picks up his dirty clothes, grabbing his phone as he walks out of the bathroom. He makes his way to the bedroom, changing into his clean clothes and tossing his dirty ones in the basket. He stretches, nearly collapsing when he hears a sudden “ _ bang”  _ behind him. “Come here.” Oikawa trembles, slowly approaching Kuroo. He flinches when the other hits the dresser, scampering closer to him in fear. “Look at me.” He grabs Oikawa by the chin, tilting his head up to make eye contact. “Look how clean you are.. It’d sure be a shame if someone were to get you all messy again.” He lets his expression drop, continuing to stare up at Kuroo. His heart sinks as the other’s expression sours, and flinches as Kuroo grabs him by the hair. “You think this is a joke? You think this is a fucking  _ joke _ ?” He tries to pull himself out of Kuroo’s grip, whining as he tugs on it. “ _ Answer me when I talk to you _ . Do you think this is a joke?” 

“No, Tetsurou-san.” He lets go of Oikawa, shoving him back so that he hits the dresser. “Why were you in Miyagi?” He covers his head, burying his face in his knees as he tries to hold back tears. “Tooru.. I’m gonna ask you again. Why were you in Miyagi?” Kuroo’s voice is soft, almost condescending. It feels like Oikawa is the child and Kuroo is his teacher, asking him why he put gum in the other kid’s hair. “I.. went to go see Iwaizumi-kun.”  _ Iwaizumi-kun.  _ He hates calling him that. He stares back at Kuroo, intimidated by the blank expression he receives. “Really? Tooru, you know how I feel about Iwaizumi. You shouldn’t go behind my back like this.”

“I’m sorry, Tetsurou-san.” He covers his face again, shaking slightly as he tries to hold back tears. “Look at me, Tooru.” Usually, a soft tone like that would bring Oikawa confort.  _ But it was never like that with Kuroo.  _ “Listen when I speak to you. I said look at me.” He flinches when he feels Kuroo reach out and touch him, expecting a harsh grip. “Relax. Let me see your back.” He relaxes, letting his head rest in Kuroo’s palm. “Alright.” His voice is little more than a whisper as he moves away from the dresser, letting Kuroo take his shirt off. His chest and arms are scarred; remnants of previous offenses obscure his pale skin with a harsh shade of pink. “You have a few bruises here.”  _ I wonder why.  _ He whines, feeling Kuroo press his thumb into one of the bruises. Eventually, he manages to relax, letting Kuroo continue to examine his back, shivering ever so slightly as he runs his long, cold fingers against Oikawa’s skin. “You’re so pretty, Tooru. I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, baby.”  _ Tell me all your blatant lies about how much you love me. We’re only going in circles now.  _ “I love you too, Tetsurou-san.” Why did he say that? He knows there isn’t a hint of truth behind those words; not for him, and certainly not for Kuroo. “Do you want to go out to eat? I’ll take you somewhere nice, too.” Why is Kuroo treating him like this? The last time they went out together was in college. The abuse will only resume when they get home. 

_ And he was right about that. It was the same routine every time.  _ He’d supposedly done something to embarrass Kuroo; he isn't used to socializing anymore, Kuroo had destroyed his superficial charisma. He puts his face in his hands, listening to Kuroo degrade him. “Why can’t you do  _ anything _ right? This is why I can’t take you anywhere, you embarrass me every  _ fucking _ time.” He yelps, feeling a sharp pain in his arm followed by a loud  _ snap. _ A belt.  _ Kuroo hit him with a belt.  _ He makes his way downwards, sitting on the floor as Kuroo continues to hit him. “And the next time you go out without my permission, it’ll be ten times worse. Do I make myself clear?” He swallows the urge to sob, responding with nothing more than a weak “yes, Tetsurou-san.” It seems to satisfy him for the time being, and Oikawa watches him make his way upstairs to their shared bedroom. It was more than likely he’d be locked out of it, but he was willing to take that chance.

He remains seated on the floor, shaking as he begins to sob. He feels so disgusting, like he’s a mosquito feeding on Kuroo’s arm. And each time he bothers the male, he gets swatted at. Biting, and biting, and biting, begging for something from Kuroo; anything. And yet he’s left unsatisfied, each and every time.


	3. Autophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ❝ tell me, tell me i'm the worst  
> make you cry and make you hurt  
> i'm the queen, bow down to me  
> i will leave you out to bleed. ❞
> 
> × queen of broken hearts (blackbear) ×

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Autophobia : the fear of being alone, or of oneself.

_ “Look at me when I’m talking to you, dumb whore!” _

_ Snap. _

_ “Look at me.” _

_ Snap. _

_ “Fucking idiot.” _

_ Snap. _

He opens his eyes, glancing around the dark room. He’s alone this time; Kuroo was nowhere to be found. He climbs out of bed, stumbling over to the mirror and turning on the lamp. “Gross.” He runs his fingers over a small gash in his hip, wincing as he makes contact with it. The images flood his mind again, pulling his heart out of his chest and into his throat.

_ “Fucking whore.” _

_ “Worthless.” _

_ “You can’t do anything right, can you?” _

Oikawa finally pulls himself away from the mirror, wrapping his arms around himself as he stares at the floor.

_ “You know what? I’m done. I’m fucking done.” _

_ “Tetsurou-san!” _

_ “If you hate me so fucking much, I’ll go! Is that what you want?” _

_ “No! I never said that!” _

_ “Don’t fucking lie to me, Tooru! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be sneaking off like this! Clearly, you don’t love me like I love you!” _

_ “No! I do! I love you so much! I won’t go out ever again! Please!” _

_ “I’m leaving, Tooru. Have fun with your fucking boytoy Iwaizumi.” _

_ “No! Please don’t go! I hate being home alone!” _

_ Nothing. Kuroo is already gone, the door slamming behind him as Oikawa drops to his knees. _

His arms bind tighter, begging him not to fall apart. He rests his back against the wall, letting go of himself and pulling his phone out of his pocket as he begins to shake.

**From: You**

_ please coem bakck _

**From: You**

_ uou know i hate beng here sa.one _

**From: You**

_ plaese stop iognioring mme teutsrou _

He lets his hand fall to his side, dropping his phone on the floor and sliding down the wall to curl up on himself. “Fuck..” His phone vibrates on the floor beside him, instantly pulling him out of his thoughts as he reaches for it. He picks it up, feeling his chest tighten as he reads the message on the screen. 

**From: Tetsurou 💕**

_ Stop texting me.  _

**From: Tetsurou 💕**

_ I mean it.  _

Oikawa shouldn’t be surprised that Kuroo is upset with him. Kuroo is always upset, it’s only natural that this would be his breaking point. Oikawa gets up, shoving his phone into his pocket as he makes his way to the kitchen. He opens the cabinet, pulling out a cookbook and flipping through it mindlessly. His phone buzzes in his pocket, startling him out of his trance. 

**From: Iwaizumi**

_ Are you safe? _

**From: You**

_ I think so.  _

**Incoming Call: Iwaizumi**

Oikawa picks up, holding the phone to his ear. “Where are you?”

“At home.”

“Is Kuroo there?”

“No.” His voice breaks and tears sting his eyes, threatening to fall as he takes a deep breath in. “Okay. Open the door.” 

“What?”

“Open the door.” Oikawa approaches the door, looking through the peephole cautiously. “Who’s that?”

“Shirabu Kenjirou. He’s a friend of Ushijima, a med student. He was asked to check up on you.”

“Why?” Oikawa watches as Shirabu shifts from one foot to the other, waiting rather impatiently for the door to open. “Because there are people who care about you, Tooru. You keep turning your back on the help we try to give you; this is something you can’t back away from. Open the door.” The call goes dead on the other end, then, leaving Oikawa to stare at the doorknob.

_ “Don’t you dare open that door, Tooru. You don’t need help, and you especially don’t need it from someone who doesn’t know you.”  _

His hand reaches for the knob regardless, and his free hand reaches to unlock the door. He cracks it open, peeking out at the shorter man in front of him. “Hello?”

“Oikawa Tooru? I’m Shirabu Kenjirou, I’m a 5th year med student. A friend of mine asked me to perform a checkup on you. May I come in?” Oikawa stands still for a moment, thinking over the consequences. “Don’t worry; any specific details of what happened will remain confidential.” Oikawa steps to the side, opening the door to let Shirabu in. “Thank you. This is a very lovely home you have.” 

“Thank you.”  _ It’s my boyfriend’s house and I’m basically renting it. _ “Alright, this looks like a good spot. Can you sit down for me?” Shirabu pulls a chair away from the dinner table, patting it gently as he digs through his bag. Oikawa sits, swinging his legs back and forth as he waits. “This is going to sound odd, but do you mind lifting your shirt up for me?” He freezes for a moment, hesitantly sliding his hands under his shirt and raising it over his head. Almost instantly, Shirabu’s hand finds its way to the wound on Oikawa’s hip, causing him to shiver as his cold fingers caress the skin. “Hm.. Cut on the left hip, but bordering an incision. It doesn’t seem to be bleeding anymore, but I’ll still clean it up for you.” Shirabu studies the rest of his torso, running his hands across his chest as he checks for any other wounds. “Everything else looks good here. I’ll just check your back and your legs and then clean up that wound of yours.” 

Oikawa tenses as Shirabu travels behind him, wincing at the noise he makes. “Oh dear. Multiple lacerations... How’d that happen?”

“I’m.. not sure. It must’ve happened during volleyball practice.” Oikawa flinches as Shirabu raises his hand, leaning away from him and covering his face. “Thought so. I knew it would be bad, but I didn’t think it was this bad.” He lowers his hand, letting it hover over his shoulder as he examines his back again. “Multiple bruises and welts across the skin.. I’m gonna ask you a few questions while I look over your legs, okay? I need you to answer as honestly as possible.” Oikawa nods, rolling his pants up past his calves. “Nothing much here. Do you have a significant other? Maybe a boyfriend, girlfriend, some other kind of friend?” 

“I have a boyfriend.” 

“How long have you been together?”

“Since we started college.”

“Do you live with him?” Shirabu stands, reaching into his bag and pulling a couple things out. “Yes.” Shirabu puts some ointment on his fingers, gently rubbing at Oikawa’s wounds. He winces at the contact, trying his best to keep still. “Unfortunately, I can’t legally inform the police without your consent. Do you give me permission?” 

“No! Please don’t!”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll respect your decision, but I will call to check in on you every week, alright?” Shirabu brings his hands away from Oikawa’s back, stepping away from him and pulling his phone out of his pocket as it vibrates. “Ah. It’s just my husband, I’ll answer him later.” Oikawa watches Shirabu decline the call with wide eyes.  _ How would it feel to do that with no consequences?  _

“Alright, just put your full name and number here while I finish cleaning you up.” Shirabu hands him a pad of sticky notes and a pen, crouching down to clean off the wound on his hip. He clicks the pen, scribbling his name and his phone number onto the top sticky note. Shirabu stands in front of him, and Oikawa hands him the pen and the sticky notes. “Thank you very kindly. I’ll call you next week. Do you have a time that works best for you?”

“9:30 PM. I leave for volleyball practice around that time.” 

“Alright, perfect. I’ll be hearing from you then. Please take care of yourself as best you can. Goodbye, Oikawa-san.” Shirabu lets himself out, leaving Oikawa alone in the kitchen. 

_ Oikawa-san. _ How long has it been since he’s heard that? 

He gets up, putting the chair back in its rightful place and heading upstairs. Half of him wishes Kuroo would call him asking where he’s at, and the other wishes Kuroo never comes back again. Oikawa isn’t sure what he wants more. He crawls into bed, holding his phone close to his chest as he begins to sob.

_ The universe never cared for him before. Why would it start now? _


End file.
